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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330671">Quadratics for fucking dumbasses</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckgoose/pseuds/fuckgoose'>fuckgoose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hajime no Ippo | Fighting Spirit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Autistic Character, Gen, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Math, Trans Character, Trans Characters, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, autistic characters, its very minor but its there, the autistic characters are implied but if you look... you will see</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:16:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,755</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330671</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuckgoose/pseuds/fuckgoose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Math sucks. That's what Miyata Ichirou thinks. The person he has help him doesn't exactly turn it into any more of a positive experience.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Miyata Ichirou &amp; Mashiba Kumi, Miyata Ichirou &amp; Mashiba Ryo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Quadratics for fucking dumbasses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hi the math skills of miyata and mashiba are shown in canon and i think thats a gift. <br/>tw for minor mentioned transphobia (like two sentences) and brief misgendering. the misgendering isnt malicious in intent and doesn't go on very long.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
  <span>Miyata Ichirou does not like asking for help. Well, it isn't the asking part he dislikes. He just hates admitting he isn't capable of doing something. Which is probably what led to his current situation. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>   He struggles over his graded quadratics test in between bites of his lunch. He doesn't understand </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> his teacher marked it wrong. He’s looking over his (admittedly sparse) notes, and from what he can tell he used the right formula. It’s stupid. It’s not like he’s going to use it in the real world. Yeah, that’s what he'll tell his teacher when she asks why he hasn't corrected his test. He huffs and closes his notebook to return to eating, but this draws the attention of someone sitting a few seats away.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>   Kumi is one of the few classmates Ichirou can stand. She was a little strange, but he didn't really care. She scratched absentmindedly at her skin, leaving little scabs and scars, and she stumbled over her words, and flapped her hands at her side. Not to mention, everyone assumed she was a boy for a while, until she said she wasn't. It was definitely out of the ordinary, he thought, but it seemed a rather trivial thing to be bothered by. The school still made her wear the gakuran, and most teachers called her by the wrong name, which was honestly the strangest part about it to Ichirou. He didn't understand why Kumi didn't get pissed at them. But Kumi merely brushed him off and told him that she was used to it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>   “What’s this?” she says as she walks over. Not waiting for an answer, she pulls it towards herself and makes a face. “Quadratics? Yuck. My class covered those last unit, but I don’t really remember much.” She picks it up to flip through the pages.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou squeaks indignantly at this, and grabs at the paper. It is simply lifted higher as she continues to skim over it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Give it back, Kumi!” he protests.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   She blinks at him, and hands the packet back. “Sorry, Miyata-kun. I didn't mean to make you upset.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   His face feels like it’s burning, even if it doesn't show. “It’s fine,” he mumbles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   She smiles at him. “Great! Oh, and if you ever want someone to help you with math, my brother Ryo is really good!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   He scowls at her. “I don’t need help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   She pouts. “Fine then. But I think it’d be good if you at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>pretended</span>
  </em>
  <span> to need help. He doesn't really have any friends to talk to, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou knows what she’s doing. He can tell that it’s true, but he can also tell she’s giving him an excuse to get help, and he's begrudgingly thankful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Whatever… Where could I find him?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Kumi smiles and claps her hands. </span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>   He doesn't completely want to go through with this. He doesn't want to feel stupid, which could very well happen. And he feels awkward wandering around this wing of the building. He’s never really spent any time here, so he looks closely at the numbers next to the doors. He does his best to subtly peer into the classrooms, though most are empty. A few have kids eating lunch in them, all upperclassmen. Eventually, he does find the room Kumi gave him. He peers through the doorway, but her brother doesn’t seem to be there. He’s about to leave when a monotone voice from the back of the room speaks up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Need something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   He turns around slowly, not letting it show he had been startled. The person who spoke is wearing her uniform wrong, he immediately notices. She's wearing scuffed up black and red sneakers, which are most certainly not part of the dress code, and adding to the insult, her left shoelaces are untied. She's wearing loose socks, and the ribbon under her collar is tied sloppily. Only a little bit of her shirt is tucked into her skirt, on the left side, the rest fallen out. Her hair is shorter than most girls would have it, but longer than most boys, a lot like Kumi’s, actually. Unlike Kumi’s, it's wild and unkempt. The next thing he notices is that she is sitting on top of a desk. He can see a dusty footprint on the dark blue of the chair that's been kicked away, undoubtedly from the student's dirty sneakers. She has her legs spread in a manner that is generally advised against when wearing a skirt. She's wearing shorts underneath, but it doesn't really help. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichiro’s overall first impression? This student is incredibly rude. The fact that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> thinks that is saying something. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   He decides to use this opportunity to find where he should be headed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Yes, actually. I’m looking for Mashiba Ryo, he should be here. Have you seen him?” He asks, his tone the same as usual, somewhere between disinterested and harsh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   The other student’s face twists into a small yet scary smile. “Yes, this is he,” he says, voice shifting in pitch a little, clearly amused. “You're Miyata? You're shorter than I thought you'd be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou typically tried to keep a cool facade, but between the embarrassment of not recognizing Mashiba, the way his brain is currently rewriting his thoughts about him, and the condescending air his comment seemed to have, he bristles, face pulling back into a scowl. “Yeah, well, we can't all come from a family of giants,” he counters. “You don't look how I thought you would, either.” And he doesn't, not at all. There's barely any resemblance to Kumi. He seems to have the same habit of picking at his skin, but other than that, there’s little similarity. And he doesn't really seem like the sort of person who’d spend time on math, based on the scratches and bruises scattered over his skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba’s grin quickly sours. “Fuck’s that s’pposed to mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou has the distinct feeling he’s dug his own grave. But he is nothing if not stubborn, and if that is his undoing, so be it. “You don't exactly look the math type,” he spits back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba’s frown softens a little. He still has a bit of an angry expression, but Ichirou gets the impression that that’s kind of his default. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Whatever. Hand over your math work, let’s see how big a deal this really is,” Mashiba says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou sets his bag on the desk in front of the one Mashiba is sitting on, which he now notices has clearly been kicked out of place. This guy is a real piece of work, huh? He pulls out his math packet and holds it out for Mashiba to take. And take it he does, faster than Ichirou was prepared for. His long arm darts out and grabs the papers, pulls them back just as fast. Ichirou involuntarily lets out a small cry, and moves his hand to his mouth. “You gave me a papercut,” he hisses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba chuckles. He obviously meant to do it on purpose, not that he’s really trying to hide it. No wonder the guy doesn't have any friends, Ichirou thinks. He’s an asshole. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Sorry,” Mashiba apologizes, even though he's clearly not. “Hand me a textbook or something else to write on. And a pen.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Seething, Ichirou does so, bringing both close to Mashiba to avoid a repeat of what had just happened. Mashiba doesn't thank him, just brings his right leg over the left and places the book and paper on top of them. His legs are still wide apart, which gives Ichirou the impression that he must've forgotten he’s wearing a skirt. Or, he amends, he just doesn't care. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba looks over the paper as Ichirou takes a seat in the chair he had kicked away. His eyebrows raise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Fhew,” he whistles. “You suck.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Wow, real helpful,” he bites back, growing more pissed off by the second. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   The other boy snorts, unfazed. He quickly finishes reading over the problem.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “I see the problem. This is the discriminant form.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Miyata blinks at him. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba stares at him. “Do you pay attention, like, at all, or are you just fucking stupid? You use the discriminant form to find the number of real zeros. I can not FATHOM why you would use the discriminant here. You need the standard form.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou continues staring blankly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba sighs. “Do you know what the standard form is?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   His face reddens angrily. “Well-” He stops and looks away, lower lip jutting out childishly. “...No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba brings the pen down to the paper and starts writing. “The standard formula is ax squared plus bx plus c. I don’t know how you got this far without knowing this. It’s-” he cuts himself off and makes a small growling type noise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   It’s weird. Ichirou just kind of accepts it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Come over here, I’ll show you,” Mashiba says, nodding his head to beckon him over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   So he peers over Mashiba’s arm to see what he’s writing. His handwriting isn’t great, but at least Ichirou can read it. He’s written a lot, all over the paper. He adds little notes occasionally, to indicate what he's doing. “So this,” he taps on a problem with the pen, “wants you to solve by factoring, and the next wants you to solve using the formula. Factoring’s pretty easy once you get the hang of it, and the formula isn't bad if you can memorize it. Here, wait one second.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou stands there, feeling a little uncomfortable as Mashiba leans to the side and grabs his backpack off the floor. He grabs a notebook and a calculator out of it before tossing it back to the floor, not worrying about damage to the items inside. Though, judging from the very light thump it makes, there’s not much in it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba opens up the notebook, and Miyata sees two pages full of angry scribbling. Most of it is unintelligible, but he can recognize a few words, mostly things like “die” and “disease” and “hate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Ah, wrong one,” Mashiba says nonchalantly, and exchanges it for what seems to be the only other notebook in his bag. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou once again thinks that he doesn't want to hang out with Mashiba much after this. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   This notebook is significantly more normal, mostly extensive if messy math notes and proofs. It’s very different from his own notes, which consist only of what he deems likely for him to forget. Which, if his test is any indication, isn't really working out for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba flips to a blank page, and writes “Quadratics ” at the top. He brings the pen up to the side of his mouth and chews on the end as he stares down at the paper with an indecisive look on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Can you no-” Ichirou starts, not particularly wanting the older boy to slobber on his pen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Eh?” Mashiba cuts him off, turning to look at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   At the sight of his face, which was clearly a little annoyed and very scary, Ichirou decides that maybe he should wait and see if Mashiba stops on his own. “Ah, nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba grunts and goes back to his contemplation. “Ah!” he says, and he brings the pen down to the paper and adds on to the title, making it “Quadratics for fucking dumbasses.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou can’t say he appreciates the addition. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba scribbles down ‘ax²+ bx + c’ on the paper, and labels it ‘standard form.’ “So what you’re gonna do with factoring this sort of thing is first split the middle term. You want to get the shit in the parentheses to be the same, get it? To do that you need to find the two numbers that add to this,” he taps the ‘b,’ “and multiply to this.” He taps the ‘c’ this time. He looks at Ichirou. “Get it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou stares at the paper before shaking his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba groans. “Okay, how about this. I’ll make you a simple practice problem and solve it for you. Then you can try.” His tone implies that it’s not a real question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou just nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Okay. X squared plus eight x plus twelve. This one is easy. What two numbers add up to eight and multiply to twelve? You can write it out if you want.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou, determined not to use paper, runs through numbers that could work in his head. “Uh-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba tsks. “Too slow. The answer is six and four. Take this to heart: use paper.” He holds up his notebook, showing a small chart of numbers that add up to eight, six and two being the ones circled. “Doing math in your head doesn't make you look cool, it’s just stupid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou bites his tongue to keep from arguing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba continues to speak as he writes. “Now, we split eight x into two x and six x. Greatest common factor between x squared and two x is obviously x. Six x and twelve’s is six. Now we have this.” He writes out ‘x(x+2) + 6(x+2)’ and points at it. “Finally, we take the numbers inside the parentheses and combine them, then we do the numbers outside the parentheses and write them together. So it’s x plus two and x plus six. Done.” He finishes writing down the last of his notes and tears the page out of his notebook. “Go do the problems you need to do with this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou nods, not gracing him with a thank you. He takes his test back and sits down at a desk and brings out his lunch. It’s nothing fancy, just a cheap bento from the convenience store. He’s just started working when he hears Mashiba say “Hey.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “What,” he hisses, annoyed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Give me half your lunch,” Mashiba says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “What the hell? Why would I- No! What happened to yours?” he exclaims, appalled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Used it to pay for some weed,” Mashiba says, like it's the most normal thing in the world. “I helped you. You owe me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “I never agreed to that,” he points out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Despite it being a valid point, Mashiba groans. “Uuuugh. Come on, don’t be a stingy bitch. I could’ve spent this time doing anything else.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou sighs and picks out the things he doesn't care for, mostly vegetables besides his umeboshi, and unceremoniously drops them on the clear plastic top of the box. He scrapes a small amount of rice on to it as well, so he thinks he's being pretty generous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Here,” he says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba just stares at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Well?” he prods, really sick of his shit. “If you want it you can get up and get it yourself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba growls, but he walks over anyway, handing back Ichirou’s textbook as he does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Oh, and I don't have any extra chopsticks,” Ichirou adds as an afterthought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “That’s fine,” Mashiba shrugs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He expects him to get out a pair of his own. Instead, he just picks up some vegetables with his hands and puts them in his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   It’s disgusting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   What’s even worse is when Mashiba says “Umeboshi? Fuck yeah,” under his breath and shoves the whole thing in his mouth without a single change in his expression. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   After a few minutes Ichirou thinks he’s done with his math, and asks Mashiba to check it over for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   So he looks through the problems he fixed and says “Yeah, it’s fine.” He glances at the clock and adds “Period’s almost over.” He slides off the desk to put his things back in his bag. “Oh, and here’s your pen,” he offers, holding it out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Ichirou almost grabs it, but then he sees the teeth marks and saliva on the end and says “It’s fine, you can keep it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba puts it in his bag. “Next time, bring something with fish.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   He’s offended by the rude demand, but also by the implication he’ll need his help again. The fact that it’s probably true is just salt in the wound. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   “Whatever,” he says. “Why’re you doing this anyway? You going to be a math teacher or something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba cackles as he walks towards the door. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck </span>
  </em>
  <span>no,” he spits. “I hate kids. I’m going to be a boxer soon enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   This piques his interest. “Oh, really? Me too.” He hates how obviously curious he sounds, but he cares so much more about boxing than math. “Maybe we’ll see each other in the ring one day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   Mashiba laughs more at that, and looks over his shoulder at him. “Maybe. I’ll look forward to beating you to a pulp, Iwata. And remember, fish next time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>   God, he really hates this guy's guts. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>if you want to hear about hni characters math skills or just more of my thoughts follow me on twt @mtnscreamer. im very fun. for instance, i prove that mashiba's at the very least decent at math here: https://twitter.com/mtnscreamer/status/1299814938790289408?s=20</p></blockquote></div></div>
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